Alone
by blue peanut m and m
Summary: A short drabble tag to On The Head Of A Pin. Dean's thoughts after Castiel leaves the hospital.


**Alone.**

**Summary. . . . . . . . A short drabble tag to, On The Head Of A Pin.**

**Disclaimer. . . . . . Yep, you got it, not mine!**

**A.N. . . . . . . Oh come on! Who didn't feel Dean's emotions needed a bit more added to the ending? So here's my take. The words at the beginning are from a song called Pass It On, by The Coral. They're so powerful, could fit either Winchester, and have been bugging me for a while now to be added to a fic. Happy reading, Peanut x**

_For every tear cried in shame,_

_There'll be someone else to blame,_

_And every crime that I commit,_

_There'll be a punishment to fit,_

_But I'll accept what's coming round,_

_If I could only lose this sound,_

_That's been ringing in my ears,_

_And tormenting me for years._

_And when it's done,_

_And all this is gone,_

_Just find a feeling pass it on._

His still kept his head turned away, his eyes staring anguished into space, the occasional tear trickling slowly from their sockets, as the fluttering of wings, and the briefest of breezes against his warm skin, signaled to Dean that Castiel had left. He waited listening to the noises, wanting to be sure before he risked taking a look, feeling he couldn't bare to see the sympathy that radiated from the angels very essence. The tears fell stronger when he finally looked round, to see the chair his guardian had been sitting in, was now empty, and he was once again alone.

Alone, something he had felt everyday since he had been back. Alone with his memories of actions done in the past, alone with his fears of actions to be done in the future. Crushing weight pushed down on him, constricting around his very being, suffocating him, immobilizing him, gradually chipping away at the man he had once been, to create this new man, a man that felt scared, that felt weak, that felt alone.

Years of practice alerted him to Sam's returning footsteps, not wanting to see sympathy in his brother's eyes either, his own eyes automatically closed, his body turning away from the doorway his brother would enter, his breathing evening out in an attempt to fool his sibling into thinking he was resting peacefully, even as his heart rate rose and images played against the black backs of his lids. He just wanted to be alone.

Sam must have figured it out, years of practice of his own telling him of Dean's need for solitude, because even though Dean felt Sam knew he was awake, he whispered words of "being back soon" and "I'm going to get coffee" before awkwardly patting Dean on the shoulder and leaving once again, the door swishing quietly closed behind his retreating figure, and leaving Dean alone.

He tried to open his eyes again once he knew the coast was clear but the images had taken complete hold of him now, taking him back to that place, showing him what had been done to him, showing him the crimes that he had committed; and the cries, and screams, and sounds that had assaulted him for years were back, crowding him, and the tears turned to sobs as he wished he was alone.

Forcing his eyes back open, he wondered if in fact this was his punishment? To always feel alone, yet never quite being so, feeling as though it was fitting, yet at the same time wishing that in turn the cries, and screams, and sounds could be drowned out, a punishment he could accept, even if it meant it left him truly alone.

He wondered about Alistair's words, about Castiel's confirmation of them being true, and his revelations for how it was to end, never before feeling so crushed, so guilty, so weak. How could he have broken so easily? Why couldn't he have been like his father, so strong? How could he become this savior, when he couldn't even stop the first seal from opening? No, they would have to find some other way. He was not the one. He was just an insubstantial man, a man who had created the problem in the first place. Those thoughts competed with the cries, and the screams, battling inside his mind as Sam walked back into the room, his six foot four frame filling the small space, yet leaving Dean still feeling alone.

**A.N. . . . . . Thanks for stopping by, hope that you enjoyed this, catch you soon, Peanut x**


End file.
